


sanctuary

by captaincastello



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9715394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincastello/pseuds/captaincastello
Summary: Without taking his eyes away from his beloved, he reaches out for the sketchpad placed in the drawer of the bedside table, turns and skips through pages and pages of lovingly penciled sketches – the same person over and over again, tangled up in sheets and basking in moonlight, his Levi immortalized countless times by his own hand in graphite and paper.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siba/gifts).



> hey adrian! i'm your eruri secret valentine :D i am a big big fan of artist!erwin as well ;;-;; altho this time, i kind of meshed canon with this au lol, but i hope you like it ;;-;;
> 
> happy valentines! :D <3

Time, along with the rest of the world, ceases to exist within the four walls of Erwin’s private quarters. The only thing that passes through the metaphorical veil that separates them from the outside world is the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains, but the rest – from the grains of dust gathering along the edges of his bookshelf, to the warm bedsheets and the even warmer person that shares the bed with him – everything belongs rightfully _here_ , in their personal exclusive sanctuary.

And yet of course, Erwin knows there’s an even bigger truth behind it because honestly, his safe place isn’t exactly this room – it’s Levi.

Levi, who is always generous with his scowls and deadpan stares, who looks surprisingly and almost impossibly adorable and undisturbed in his sleep, curled up against Erwin’s chest with his head resting on Erwin’s thick bicep. Levi, whose strength is known to all and feared by many, whose weakness lies in the tender caress of Erwin’s large palm against his spine or the inside of his thigh, his legs now interlaced with the blonde’s under the soft canopy of warm sheets. Levi, who doesn’t discriminate and challenges both human authority and titans even with his bare fists, who can be the most gentle with his hands as he carefully polishes a teacup or when he cradles Erwin’s cheek in one palm.

Levi, eternally damaged, frail, rough on seemingly all edges, unless you’re willing to cut your fingers trying to look for the tiny yet definitely existing smoother ones.

Levi, thoughtful and kind, strong of heart and of will, eternally beautiful, another broken nonconformist who fits perfectly against the edges of Erwin’s own brokenness.

In the dim light of the candle-lit room, Erwin wordlessly watches as slivers of moonlight are trapped in the curves of Levi’s long eyelashes. Shadows accentuate the features of his face, and give depth and volume to the jagged lines and depressions decorating his skin. Erwin finds himself memorizing Levi, mapping out his entire physique as if it’s the first time he has seen him bare and vulnerable, committing this image into memory as if it’s the last time they’ll ever have this moment.

Levi stirs and shifts in his sleep, and Erwin’s bicep is set free. As much as he already misses the warmth and smoothness of Levi’s dark mane, Erwin is also thankful that he has his arm back to himself. Without taking his eyes away from his beloved, he reaches out for the sketchpad placed in the drawer of the bedside table, turns and skips through pages and pages of lovingly penciled sketches – the same person over and over again, tangled up in sheets and basking in moonlight, his Levi immortalized countless times by his own hand in graphite and paper.

Erwin loves drawing the bony curve of Levi’s shoulder poking out of the blanket he always steals the most of, loves the way his jet black hair settles like silk on the pillows. He relishes in studying the sharpness of Levi’s jaw, the soft curve of his neck and cheek, the contours of his calloused hands. He enjoys shading in the darkened patches where shadows gather and fade out into a soft brightness, where the dim candle light and what little moonlight that escapes inside through the curtains fail to reach.

Erwin loves experiencing Levi in this quiet clandestine way, in this tiny space within four walls in which time, along with the rest of the world, are nothing but foreign and imagined concepts, in which he can dutifully sketch his lover without any worry of disturbances, without any worry of the fleeting evening pressing against them.

Through the curtains, the moon quietly watches,

 

 

Levi wakes up the next day to the sound of Erwin snoring into the top of his head, his bare back spooned by Erwin’s broad chest, and everything else down under spooned by everything else also down under. A thick arm is lazily draped around him like a humongous tree branch felled against his side, and ends with a warm hand gingerly placed on top of his own. The spaces between their fingers are filled with each other’s, like always.

His sharpened senses and own self-trained and war-weary body should already be used to waking up earlier, before the room is bathing in radiant morning light, and yet with Erwin’s large body wrapped around him like this, humming and steadily breathing – Levi gives in and lets himself be an old married man – again. Seriously, it’s tempting to make a habit of waking up to mornings like this.

Levi snuggles up closer, careful not to invite Erwin back from his slumber so soon. The man needs his sleep after all, what with all the work – and the other thing they do privately when they’re alone together – that piles up every night. Maybe they both need more moments of being an old lazy couple, even if that means stealing a little bit more time from their busy soldier selves.

It’s only when Erwin softly yet unexpectedly sneezes into his hair that Levi jumps and sits upright, fully awake and robbed of post-marital bliss.

“Wake up, you lazy old man,” Levi seethes through his teeth, a foot aiming for Erwin’s crotch.


End file.
